Damp Grass
by hyperempathie
Summary: Craig Tucker sits beneath the starry sky as his friend presses their fingers together. The night never ends.


_And when we're good and close, I think I'll steal your time_  
 _They can shoot on sight, but it's all right._  
 _You look so good tonight, you look so good tonight._

 _"So Good" - Say Anything_

* * *

Every night of his summer vacation, Craig Tucker walked with Kenny McCormick through the endless dimly-lit streets, all the way to the outskirts of town. The tradition started after the very last day of school ended, and continued all the way to the humid August nights. The air felt heavy even though a breeze steadily blew and Craig relished in the drowning feeling that grew in his lungs every time he inhaled as he walked up to Kenny's small home.

He stood facing the blowing wind as he watched the window of Kenny's room. The light was on, and he remembered the smell of Kenny's house, all dust and cigarette smoke as the other boy mumbled apologies about the mess. The light turned off, and soon enough Kenny flew out through the door and grabbed Craig by the arms.

"Sorry you had to wait," he said, his voice shattering the silence as he grinned, "let's go do stuff!"

"Oh my god," was all Craig could manage, he felt his friend's fingertips dig into his skin, cold and spindly fingers etching themselves into his form, "let's go do stuff," though he found his own voice foreign. He never considered himself enthusiastic about much of anything, though that night felt incredibly important to him, perhaps it was that Kenny refused to let go of him, or the way the sky was clear.

The blond boy let go of one of his arms, dragging him off by the other as he continued to grin. The sound of their feet hitting the concrete echoed through the empty streets as they ran, panting and laughing. Craig pulled at Kenny's arm as he struggled to catch his breath, to which his companion stopped and turned around.

"Wait up," the boy managed through shallow breaths, "I can't run that fast," and he collapsed onto the damp grass. He looked up and noticed they'd reached the part of town where seeing houses became rare, and the night sky became endless. Kenny walked into frame, obscuring his view of the stars and replacing them with freckles dusted across cheeks now red from running, bright teeth exposed in a never-ending smile and blue eyes reflecting his own exhausted form. Kenny McCormick sat down in front of Craig, putting his hands on the panting boy's knees and leaning closer to him.

"Don't die, Craig," he said, "that would suck," and he quickly reached into his friend's coat pocket and dug out a pack of cigarettes. He tapped the back a few times and pulled two out, shoving one into Craig's hands before finding the lighter in his own pocket. He lit the cigarette between his lips and grinned around it as he leaned closer to Craig, who held his own between his teeth. He pressed them together until the other boy's ignited as well. The sound of paper burning became prominent in the empty roadside.

They both inhaled and exhaled smoke into each other's faces, making similar grimaces as a result. Craig's eyes grew teary and he wiped at them with the sleeve of his coat, offering Kenny a middle finger as he coughed. He felt the other boy grab the raised hand and push it down into the wet grass, his cold fingers entwining with Craig's as he laughed.

"Our hands are touching, Kenny," he said, tipping his head back, "isn't that weird?"

"Sure is," the blond boy replied, "weird as fuck," though he squeezed his hand, tiny bits of grass caught between their fingers as their skin grew warm from being pressed together. He inched closer, settling between Craig's knees as his other hand slowly shifted to the tall boy's thigh.

"You're crazy," Craig laughed, "I'm going to fall ov-" he interrupted himself as he noticed Kenny's nose was just barely touching his own, "oh."

"We don't have to," he exhaled, all smoke and peppermint, "if you don't want to."

Craig only frowned, his heartbeat loud in his ears as he stared at Kenny's parted lips, his overbite just barely visible. He shifted his gaze to the ground, where their two cigarettes lay discarded as he moved forward and pressed their mouths together, slowly moving his lips in an inexperienced rhythm as he felt the other grin against his wet skin. Kenny's teeth scraped his bottom lip gently, making Craig gasp. Their shadows merged on the damp grass, two shapes connecting in the place where Kenny's tongue dragged across his friend's teeth, their bodies together.

"Let's stay here," Kenny whispered, "'til someone comes looking for us."

"You're crazy," Craig repeated between kisses, all breathless exhales, his free hand tangling itself in Kenny's hair, dry like hay but endlessly soft. His fingers brushed through the knots and he watched Kenny's eyes shut in bliss as he moved closer to kiss him once again. Craig turned his head upwards, feeling his friend's mouth connect to his jawline this time, traveling downwards towards his neck and biting gently. Red blossomed across his skin, marks showing Kenny was there, and there, and there.

Rain began to fall slowly, and Craig expelled laughter into the night sky as he shut his eyes, Kenny's hands moving to give his sides ticklish, featherlight touches before pressing into the skin slowly, still kissing his neck.

Craig felt the water from the grass seep through his jeans, though he wrapped his legs loosely around Kenny's, pulling him closer, if closer even existed. He tugged at the roots of Kenny's hair gently, pulling his head up and pressing soft kisses all across his cheeks and nose before finding his lips. The August air felt heavy and humid as they sat in the grass.


End file.
